Gotham Nocturne
by Pierides
Summary: It all began with the music of a November night; two hearts colliding silently, unexpectedly, powerfully. Batman/HarleyQuinn, Bruce/Harleen
1. Tyrian

**Chapter 1: Tyrian**

She stumbled and clutched the coat around her, her baby-blues filling with tears, body quivering beneath the too large article that surrounded her. The late November chill reached its fingers through any opening and she was unprotected in the swath of royal purple cloth she wrapped herself in. The tyrian purple certainly made her peach skin appear even more pale; he could see the blood crusting around her mouth.

Her ebony lipstick was smeared and white greasepaint was flaking off in areas. The Kohl that had embraced her eyes was running down her cheek with the tears she was crying. She sniffled and her body gave another shiver. He sighed, unable to take it any longer: just merely observing her.

She looked like a little broken doll, swaying and stumbling, eyes unfocused. Her flaxen hair shone in the moonlight. He descending into the alley behind her and she paused. He knew she heard his footsteps against the concrete. She turned around and despite himself he felt his heart fall at the look of resignation on her face. It was an expression of utter defeat as her sapphire orbs fell on his black form.

Her mouth twisted into an ironic smile, "Batsy?"

He was close to her now. He had heard that there was beauty in a breakdown, and he could never deny that Harleen Quinzel, whether doctor or Harley Quinn wasn't stunning even in a layer of paint. His eyes fell to take her in.

"He do this to you?"

Her eyes fell at the question. It was as much of an answer as he needed. She was clad in a pair of simple tennis shoes, the Joker's purple trench coat—he had no idea how she'd managed to make it out with that particular article—and probably a pair of skimpy PJs. He shook his head, but was brought from his reverie by her voice once again.

"So cold, so tired," he had only enough time to grab her before she collapsed. He stared down at her face, and he was certain that had he felt her skin with bare hands that it would have been ice-cold. He needed to get her someplace warm. He hefted into his arms and held her like a sleeping child. He didn't hesitate as he pressed a button on his belt and a newly repaired Tumbler came flying into the alley.

He knew exactly where to take her; the risks of her health were far more pressing than the discovery of his true identity. He tucked the royal violet coat tighter around her and placed her into the passenger seat, fastening her in.

Alfred was going to have a field day with this.

* * *

**_This has no relation to my other TDK fanfiction, "The Ultimate Joke". This is another story entirely, whose birth owes its creation to a merely voicing of ideas, a rewatching of "Batman Begins", an exercise on characterization with my beta, and finally the Live Journal Community, 100colors. This chapter was inspired by prompt 73: Royal Purple._**

**_I hope you enjoy my flight of fancy and I may have the next chapter up later today. Constructive criticism is welcome, this is one interesting couple to undertake and I'm excited and anxious to see how it all works out._**


	2. Compassion Differential

**Chapter 2: Compassion Differential**

"Oh dear, Master Bruce, what _**were**_ you thinking?"

Bruce watched as the older man stared into the seat of the Tumbler for a moment, shaking his head.

"She needs help, Alfred," he replied and leaned over, unrestraining her. He picked her up gently and turned away from the car.

"I'm not reprimanding you, Bruce, you're right. In this weather and dressed just as she is, she's lucky she hasn't caught her death yet. Yes, she needs help, but a hospital could have provided that for her."

"Alfred, what would it have looked like if Batman had driven up to the hospital with the Joker's henchgirl? They may have thought I beat her up; I'm still technically a criminal."

"Perhaps, but they would have taken care of her. Now, yes, she probably would have found herself in Arkham, but-" he was now following Bruce as he crossed the floor of the headquarters beneath Wayne Manor, whose construction had been completed only months before. "But," he repeated, "she would have been safe."

Bruce stepped onto the lift and turned his gaze to Alfred. "Arkham's not safe. He would have found her." Alfred stared at the girl again. She appeared so fragile in the Dark Knight's arms. If not for her make-up and the coat, one would never have guessed this was Harley Quinn. The elevator was moving now. "And what's to stop her from going back on her own?"

"At least it would be her choice then." Bruce's voice had a note of finality in it.

He stared down at her as well. Harleen Quinzel was an intelligent woman, a once top-notch psychologist. How did someone such as herself become drawn and so dependent on someone like the Joker? She would return to the Joker because some disillusioned fantasy she had and he knew it. What affection had he shown her to get her so docile to him? Bruce unconsciously held her closer. The Joker didn't deserve such loyalty. How did women coerce themselves into thinking they could change men such as that vile creature?

The lift stopped and Bruce, followed by Alfred left the steel contraption. He was silent as he carried Harley from the study and up stairs to a floor that held an array of guest rooms. He opened the first door and entered.

He laid the woman on the bed, shedding her of her coat and noticing the blood now soaking the flimsy material of her gray tee-shirt in the light Alfred flipped on. He came to stand by his almost adopted son and friend. He nodded. "I'll get water, rags, and bandages."

Bruce nodded and removed her shoes. He smoothed some of her greasy blonde hair from her face. He wouldn't assess the damage until Alfred came back. He took in her form encompassed by the canary of the blankets he had pulled back in order to place her on the bed. He sighed and Alfred returned causing him to divert his attention as he took the supplies from him.

"Alfred, I think she can be saved," he said, and Alfred knew he wasn't merely speaking of her wounds.

* * *

_**#75: Canary**_


	3. Musing, Humanity, and Her Lie

**Chapter 3: Musing, Humanity, and The Lie She Tells Herself**

Her mouth stung, her head throbbed, but she was warm. She turned over and found her side sore, but securely wrapped in what felt like cotton. Her eyes had yet to open, but she scrunched her nose and slowly opened the orbs to stare into the dimness of the room.

At first she was disoriented. What had happened? Where was she? But then it all came back; every painful detail. She whimpered and twisted her head only to gasp at the slumbering figure reclining in plush chair at the bedside.

Bruce Wayne.

All she needed was simple reasoning and a little common sense; it wasn't rocket science. She had fallen into Batman's arms, and though it seemed as if she had passed out instantly she was still awake enough to blearily remember being carried to his tank-like car. Batman was too nice a guy to leave a person on the street especially in Gotham and especially a scantily clad female. She stared at the male who now sat at her side asleep, Batman. Bruce Wayne was Batman.

She wasn't as surprised as she thought she'd be. She blinked and sighed. It made sense: enigmatic pastimes which left very little time for an actual social life, aloof personality, money enough to support such a secret life. Why had he brought her here? How could he trust her that she wouldn't tell anyone? She felt sick; she wouldn't. He had saved her; her savior. No matter what the Joker wished her to leave behind, her humanity had remained intact. She slowly turned over further to observe him, allowing her mind to flutter elsewhere.

Where did this all begin?

Where did it always begin? One misspoken word, one unwanted action, you name it and at some point it would have pissed him off. It honestly didn't matter; it had happened, plain and simple. He had busted her lip, and cut into her stomach rather prettily. She felt depression smother her, but she held back the burning feeling and tried to sob quietly. Her eyes returned to Bruce in his white undershirt and garnet boxers.

She shifted and stared out at the night sky from a rather large bay window. Moonlight filtered in.

Sometimes Harley herself questioned what she saw in the Joker and his faux kindness at first. She knew it was a lie, but she couldn't squelch that small hope that maybe it wasn't.

* * *

**_#34: Garnet_**


	4. She Still Dreams of a Prince

**Chapter 4: She Still Dreams of A Prince**

The sun was filtering into the curtained window. This was what stirred Bruce first. The small groan in the silence, however, was what fully awakened him.

He opened his eyes to stare at a pair of sapphire ones. He smiled easily.

"How are you feeling?"

Harley had been startled when she removed her eyes from staring at the room in the early morning light to find Bruce Wayne staring at her. She did not have much time to allow that feeling to sink in at his smile and voice. She decided she preferred his natural sweet baritone of a voice over the gruff, almost growl Batman spoke in.

"Like I've been ran over by a trunk."

"You sure you haven't?" He rejoined, the smile still in place. He sounded joking, but he wouldn't deny the possibilities. Harley laughed at that. "Now, now, Bruce, I think I'd be even more worse off if that had occurred."

"What set him off this time?"

She was amazed he made no effort to convince her to keep it undercover that he was Batman. She shrugged, though. If he didn't want to talk about it, then it was fine with her. "Does it matter?" She smiled, "At some point everything sets him off. Mostly though, it's when I've challenged his authority; he's a force to be reckoned with and a little slip of a girl like me shouldn't be a threat to him, but he will see me as one if I don't follow orders."

Bruce straightened in the chair and stared at her coolly. "So you did something he didn't like?"

"I mean you can't-"

"You're making excuses for this man, Harleen, excuses. He may not have killed you or anything this time, but you know how close he's come to it before."

Harley glowered and twisted to stare out at the sky, painted the color of a carrot as the sun rose from the horizon. "I don't need the warning, Bats, I know."

"I don't think you do. You could have been raped or killed last night wandering like you were."

Harley felt her lip quiver. "What makes you think I didn't want that?! Maybe I was hoping that Gotham would suffer from its dark bystander effect and just let me waste away! You ever thought of that?! Huh?! No, because...You and your selfish need to save people."

She didn't hear him stand up, but she whipped around, nearly crashing her head into his own in the process. Her eyes were shining with unshed tears. "I didn't want to be saved, you idiot! I don't want to be saved!" She punched him in the chest desperately.

'Lies,' her mind whispered, still imagining an knight in shining armor coming to rescue her.

* * *

**_Prompt #90 Carrot_**

**_And the beat goes on...^^_**


	5. Tired of Seeing the Harlequin

**Chapter 5: At Times She Becomes Tired of Seeing the Harlequin in the Mirror**

Bruce had left the room after her outburst.

"You don't mean that," he stated so confidently, so vehemently before he disappeared from the doorway.

She curled up, ignoring the protest of her healing skin. She felt like a moth-eaten sweater, threads unwinding, pattern fading, stretched so far she felt she was going to break. She buried her head in her hands.

She didn't want to be saved! She was fine! She choked on a sob.

"_**No one likes a sad face, Harley,"**_ she silently screamed as his lilting voice invaded her thoughts.

She had questioned his authority on a night when one too many of his own men had done the same. She knew her fortune for having escaped with the little injuries she did have. She had run away, he had let her. Vile, evil, conniving bastard. He knew she'd come back. She shuddered and began to cry again. She would because she loved him, because there were times that she thought he genuinely felt the same. Maybe if she stayed with him long enough, he would see her strength.

He loved her; no he didn't.

He protected her; no, he used her.

She loved him; denial...

She screamed and bolted up in the bed. She was wearing thin; skin giving away to blood, to muscle to her anguish. How long had she suffered? A year? She had given away everything for him. Suddenly looking back she didn't understand, hell she never did. What kept her coming back?

Tears once again ran down her cheeks. Lies or not, she had felt accepted by him. She had always been a little unconventional, a little on the peculiar side. She had always secretly been wild beneath her professional persona as Harleen Quinzel, Arkham psychologist. He had told her he liked that side of her, he had given her what she wanted. He had approved of her faults. And even now, although, she knew the error of her ways; that he'd only been winding her around his finger to be a tool she would deny it.

A tool, that's what she was. Why did she love him? She was overcome by impulse. She threw herself out of the bed, yelping like a wounded dog when her wounds stung and reopened beneath their coverings.

She ran into the bathroom connected to her room and turned on the faucet. She scrubbed at her face, removing the paint, the lipstick. Her eyes stared in an enraged fervor into the vanity mirror.

She wanted to see the peach of her skin. She had forgotten who Harleen Quinzel looked like without the guise of Harley Quinn.

* * *

**_Prompt # 17, Peach._**


	6. Butterflies

**Chapter 6: Butterflies**

"Harleen!"

She wasn't in the bed. But relief flooded him when he heard the sound of running water in the bathroom. He cursed under his breath when he entered and she inclined her head, eyes puffy as she reclined against the fern wall. Her face now devoid of paint and lipstick was an irritated pink from where she had scrubbed the mask off. He could easily tell she was crying.

He walked over to her and turned off the sink before holding a hand out to her. She stared at it a moment before offering her own and standing up shakily.

"You're going to open your wounds." He said.

"Too late there, I already have."

He sighed and lead her back to the bed. "Lie down, you're not going to get better if you don't let yourself heal."

He could tell she was suffering from some inner turmoil. It stretched her face and her lips pouted just slightly, but she followed orders. Bruce lifted up her tee shirt to assess the damage she had done. She watched him as he examined the bandages very closely. She remained silent, but he smiled at her as he smoothed her shirt back down.

"You'll need new bandages, but you didn't open them too badly. You hungry? Alfred will fix you some breakfast." He watched as a little light came back into her eyes and she nodded. "What would you like?"

"I can choose?"

"Why not?" He shrugged and she smiled minutely. "Can I have pancakes?"

"Plain or something like strawberry?"

"Chocolate chip," she questioned with a grin.

He chuckled, "Chocolate chip it is, you're an interesting one, Harley."

"Yeah, that's why even though I'm a wanted criminal people can't help but be surprised." She winked at him. He shook his head and got back up. "I'll be back after I give Alfred your order." He was glad to see her personality come back, even if just momentarily.

Harleen watched him go, unbeknownst to him, her stomach fluttering. Her eyes fell back to the bathroom with its fern walls. She placed a hand over the bandages beneath her shirt. His hands had been gentle and warm.

* * *

**_Prompt #76, Fern_**


	7. Jasmine and Spice

**Chapter 7: Jasmine and Spice**

Her skin was turning pink beneath the hot spray of water. Oh, she had had hot showers, but she could spend as long in here as she wanted, no rush, no fear. It felt great. She ran her fingers through her lathered hair and sighed.

It was day three of her stay at Wayne Manor. Bruce's concern had been endearing so far, if not a little irritating. He refused to allow her to leave until her wounds had healed properly. She had grumbled, a little angry that she had had to stay bedridden for a few days. This shower was doing good to ease some of her cabin fever. She giggled at the events that had occurred thus far as she felt the suds leave her hair and she squirted conditioner into her palms before applying that as well to her locks.

She would creep out of her room only to minutes later be escorted right back by Bruce, with a hand on the small of her back or by Alfred who would only smile exasperatedly.

"Don't want to worry Master Bruce too much, huh, Ms. Quinzel?" He had said once.

She was getting rather tired of being confined, though, despite the fact that she knew it was for her own good health. She turned off the water and opened the glass door. She grabbed the pumpkin towel that hung off the closest rod and wrapped it around her, tucking it securely in place as she stepped from the bathroom and into "her" room. She smiled at the clothes laid out neatly atop the bed.

Alfred was such a sweetie.

A simple blue sweater and jeans. She twisted to make sure the door was closed before allowing the towel to drop so she could put on her undergarments. She had just finished pushing the final strap of her bra up—her underwear was already in place—when the door opened unexpectedly. She whipped around, cheeks red in both embarrassment and anger, but as soon as she saw the look on the person's face she had to hold back a laugh.

Bruce stood in the doorway, cheeks bleeding the faintest of pinks and eyes wide. He quickly adverted his stare and cleared his throat.

"Excuse me, I was just going to come and see how your wounds are healing."

Harley smirked, "Well, you can look, puddin'. I'm about as dressed as most girls in bikinis are."

He walked over to her, cheeks still flushed and examined the wound, which was still scabbed over. "I think you'll be alright without bandages now. Does it still hurt?"

"Nah, it's just a little itchy, hey you think I could walk around a bit? Being stuck in here really makes me restless." He was still close to her. He could smell the jasmine shampoo she had used. He nodded, "I'll escort you after you get dressed."

"'Kay," she turned away and began unabashedly pulling on her clothes. She turned a cheeky stare to Bruce as she pulled the sweater over her head, "See something you like, Batsy?"

He snorted and shook his head in amusement. He was afraid if he replied verbally his voice would have given him away.

* * *

**_Prompt # 50, Pumpkin._**

**_Sorry for only one update today; college caught me quite off guard and stuff other distractions decided to show themselves. Hopefully there will be more than one tomorrow, but I believe for me, even one a day is something (I at least promised one chapter a day. ^^). Thanks for all the reviews and for reading!_**


	8. Not An Impasse

**Chapter 8: Not Impasse**

"This is amazing. I never knew Wayne Manor was this big."

Bruce watched as Harley stared across the expanse of emerald grass that surrounded the estate. He nodded, "You get use to it after a while."

Harley laughed openly and threw her head back to absorb the sunlight. It made her face and restrained blonde hair glow. Tendrils of the flaxen locks fell to frame her face and the wind played with them. She was stunning without her make-up, she was blossoming away from the Joker. He smiled. Was this truly Harley Quinn? She certainly didn't seem the type to be a certified psychopath, and more often than not she was an accomplice. Was she only with the Joker as a pretty bauble? He felt something hot rise in his chest—anger, but he quelled it.

"Harley," she turned to him.

Should it have been normal for all words to leave him at her mere look? Maybe it was the combination of the sunlight and her unmasked skin. Maybe it was all that and the realization of the true woman that lurked beneath Harley Quinn's exterior. He had never had much to do with the girl. He remembered snatches of her defending the Joker, desperately helping him, and he remembered still shaking his head at the naïve loyalty she gave.

"Yeah?"

He chuckled at that and shook his head, "Nothing, I can't remember." She stared at him skeptically, which only made him smile wider. "I'm serious, it just slipped my mind." She pursed her lips.

"I think you're lying. Ya know you can tell me, I won't fly off the handle or nothing."

He opened his mouth, realizing that before he was going to say something that he had only begun as a mental musing. "Are you cold?"

He saw that she was certain that wasn't what he had wanted to say either, but he was thankful she let it slide. "A little, but nothing too bad." He unbuttoned his own sweater and walked to her side. He placed it over her shoulders. She turned to him surprised. He shrugged. "You seem to want to stay out here a little longer." He turned around and began walking back up the stairs.

"I'm going to go make us two mugs of hot chocolate; don't go running off, I do have these grounds secured with cameras."

Harley watched him go and turned to stare back at the grounds. She pulled the sweater tighter around her and fell to sit on a step, her eyes becoming distant and her teeth worrying her bottom lip.

Bruce watched her out of sight. Did she feel like a caged bird? How long until she left? He sighed and concentrated on her figure for a moment. What had he almost commented out loud before?

_**Harley, I think you look very pretty without that paint.**_

* * *

_**Prompt #37, Emerald.**_


	9. He Sees What She Hides

**Chapter 9: He Sees What She Hides**

Pale fingers held the cup tightly.

Bruce had left not long after his short observation and made the promised beverage. Harley's eyes stared into its mocha depths. She had once again fallen eerily silent. He'd heard little other than a whispered "thanks" since he had given her the steaming cup. She had to take a swig.

"How am I going to know if I can follow packet directions correctly if you don't drink it?"

She glanced up at him; really all he wanted to do was distract her from whatever foreboding thoughts she was entertaining in that head of hers. He nodded his head encouragingly. "I've not laced it with anything." She brought the drink to her lips and took a tentative sip.

"Well?" She scrunched up her nose at the question, but was soon laughing.

"Just kidding. It's good," she smiled and took another, "what about you, I thought you were going to make yourself some?"

Bruce shook his head, "I was, but then I decided not to."

She nodded and turned her eyes back to the liquid chocolate.

"What's on your mind, Harley?"

"It's not important." She mumbled and took another drink. Bruce sighed and shifted closer to her on the stair. He had joined her there after returning outside. He tucked loosened strains of her hair behind her ear. "I believe it is."

"You trust me," she turned her head away staring off into the distance. "That's a bad decision."

"Is it?" He raised a brow and his hand fell. Her eyes did as well and she was silent for a while. It was a pregnant pause. She continued to drink the hot chocolate and when she was finished Bruce took the empty cup from her. He had never seen someone so lost and confused. He could see the fire burning in her eyes, the ember that was never extinguished, but it was smoldered. He wanted to know what she was thinking.

He wanted to chase the demons away. He stood up and glanced at the woman that lied so quietly shattered before him. The Joker had taken her soul, but she was only one who could take it back. Bruce hated him for tearing her shreds. He turned away and began back into the house.

"Bruce?"

He stopped and turned around to stare at her. She bit at her lip, but her eyes were intent on his.

"I won't tell anyone."

* * *

**_Prompt #42, Mocha._**


	10. Realization is a Sharp Blade All Its Own

**Chapter 10: Realization is a Sharp Blade All Its Own**

"So I trust Ms. Quinzel is in bed?"

Bruce focused his attention on Alfred as he entered the kitchen. He had been in deep thought for most of the day since he brought Harleen back in and Alfred had only just awakened him from his stupor.

"Yeah, she's back in bed."

Alfred smiled, "You look exhausted, Master Bruce." The younger man chuckled and took a seat at the bar watching his butler and friend. "I _**feel**_ exhausted, Alfred."

"You've hardly gotten sleep, no wonder. She'll keep, Bruce. Besides I heard she was healing up rather nicely. How come you're taking a very personal path in helping her, sir? I haven't seen you so fervent in years."

"It's what she needs," Bruce replied, reaching across the smooth marble surface and pulling a tin of coffee beans towards him. "I have no doubt of the little genuine kindness she's shown by the Joker and his band of rouges. She deserves to be shown kindness." He opened the container and the scent of the cocoa colored beans wafted to his nose.

"I hope you know, it's too late to have any of that. I'm drawing the line," Alfred said softly, "you're not getting coffee. Harleen needs you to be rested; it's in both your best interests." Bruce closed the coffee and stared at Alfred. "Why haven't you really grilled me why I took her in?"

The older man nodded and began to wipe down the counter in front of Bruce. He took the coffee tin. "Ah, well, sir...It's because I have faith you know what you're doing. You're certainly old enough. Besides, when you did that I saw your father in ya. It doesn't bother me that you're taking in a criminal; she's agreeable enough, more so. I like her, though she's a little sad, isn't she?"

Bruce nodded, "Yeah, but you can't blame her. Alfred, her docile nature concerns me. She's scared, I know it. She's not like any criminal I've come across. She seems to regret her actions."

"It does happen, and I believe Harleen was mislead and blinded by her affection for the Joker." He watched as the man he served stared at him. "She was," he sighed and then added, "she's going to leave." Alfred paused in his ministrations. "What?"

"She's going to leave, Alfred. She's going back to the Joker."

Harley listened to the conversation, hovering right outside the door. She closed her eyes. Bruce sounded exhausted, downhearted. A few tears glistened on her cheeks. It hurt to hear that; hurt because he was right. She was going to leave. She was leaving that night. She didn't want Bruce found out, she didn't want to cause trouble. She silently crept back up the stairs. If she was gone too long, the Joker would come after her. Bruce didn't deserve that. She had ruined enough lives as it stood.

She climbed back into the bed to feign sleep until Bruce had settled down. For the first time she felt even more than defeat for planning to return to that deranged clown. She felt guilt and she was confused. She wasn't quite sure herself of the exact reason she was going back.

* * *

**_Prompt #54, Cocoa._**


	11. She Can't Say the Words to Save Her Life

**Chapter 11: She Can't Say the Words to Save Her Life**

Her hands quivered as she buttoned the topmost button on the purple trench coat. She had made sure she was dressed just as she had been when Bruce, no Batman, had found her. She wasn't looking forward to walking back to the theater dressed as she was, but there was no alternative. She would have enough explaining as to why she had washed his coat.

She sighed and carefully walked to the door of her room and slipped out into the darkened hallways of Wayne Manor. She knew she had to leave as quickly as possible, but something nagged at her and halfway down the hall she pivoted and entered Bruce's study.

She didn't know what she was looking for until her eyes came upon a pile of fuchsia paper. She nimbly walked over to the desk upon which it sat and began searching for a pen or pencil.

"Third drawer down."

She jumped at the voice and raised her head to stare guiltily at the face of Alfred who stood in the doorway. Her eyes fell down and she opened the suggested drawer. She pulled out a blue pen and Alfred walked over to the desk and flicked on the lamp.

"Thanks," she whispered.

She began scrawling on the pad in her feminine hand. She tried to control the shaking of her hand and the fact that tears were welling up in her eyes. When she had finished she carefully tore off the paper and folded it. Alfred took it from her.

"I'll be sure he gets it, Ms. Quinzel. Would you like me to get you a taxi? Your walk back to the Narrows would be long and its very brisk outside tonight."

"That would be great. Thanks, Alfred."

He nodded and turned to leave.

"Wait, I have a question," she forced herself to meet his gaze when he turned back to her. "Why are you not stopping me?"

"We both know what you're heading back to, but this your decision to make. Do you know why we fall, Ms. Quinzel?"

She was taken off guard by the cryptic question. Alfred saw and chuckled, "We fall so we can learn to pick ourselves back up. The questions within that, though, are when and how will we do it? No one can answer those for us, we have to supply the solutions ourselves." He nodded at her once he saw that she had taken it in. "Have a seat, I'll fetch you when your taxi arrives."

He left and Harley wrung her hands. She understood those words, but with it came more turmoil and grief than she could have imagined.

'You're making the wrong decision, Harley! Stop him, tell him not to call the cab!' But she didn't.

* * *

**_Prompt #_****65, Fuchsia.**

**_And now we're coming to the first rise in action. I really hope this whets your all's appetites! ^^_**


	12. He'll Never Cut Her Strings

**Chapter 12: He'll Never Cut Her Strings**

It smelt of mold and she could feel the moisture in the air as she made her way through the entrance of the theater the Joker had taken as a base. It wasn't cold as outside, though. Her body gave a quiver beneath its over-sized jacket at that thought as Harley steadily walked through the halls, eyes glancing to and fro for any sign of _**him**_. She passed what had once been a break room for the actors in the place's glory days; it now served as their makeshift kitchen. Only a few thugs raised eyes to her figure—surprise, surprise back again. The other open rooms were much the same. He wasn't in any of them. That did not slow her pounding heart, however.

She crept up to a brightly painted door and turned the handle, noticing that more of the aqua paint was peeling off. Hesitantly she opened it. The room was empty.

Her drumming heart suddenly slowed. He wasn't there. She let out a long breath and after unbuttoning it, deposited his coat on the rumpled bed that she more often than not had the discomfort of sleeping in. The Joker had never been keen on physical contact. He despised holding hands, kissing, and just about any other intimate act. Their contact was brief, unless otherwise stated. Had his small, minuscule gestures of affection been all a ploy?

She stared back at the irritatingly colored door and shut it quickly. She stripped of her night clothes and began frantically throwing open drawers, pulling out wads of fabric desperately. She dressed warmly and looked at the chaotic disarray she had created. She didn't care. She turned her back on the room, grabbing a thick, black jacket before leaving.

She was departing more than just the room; she was departing everything. She had denied his cunning for a year, secretly knowing the truth, but refusing to believe it out of some ideal hope she had; but now it was all clear and she had had enough. She was sick of hoping for something she knew would never happen. The world, as dark and cruel as it could be was more forgiving than the life she had chosen and it seemed it would welcome her back. Bruce had proven that to her in some way.

She was filled with the impulse to just get out and never return. It didn't matter how rational it seemed; she wanted it and as long as the Joker wasn't around she could obtain it with no problem; she'd deal with the consequences of the action later. She calmly walked down the hall and began to pass the kitchen, but this time she did not meet the same silence she had before.

"Where you going, Harley, back to the Batman?"

Her heart stopped at the smug inquiry from one of the thugs. They did little to antagonize in the absence of the Boss—they came to injury otherwise. That meant he was back. Shit; whatever semblance of a plan she'd had was suddenly in need of a change. She twisted back to stare at the man who had spoken, glancing as far as she could into the room without moving. She didn't see him, but she knew he was in there, and now very interested in her.

"Batman," she furrowed her brow in confusion—play it off.

"Yeah," another chimed, "_**Batman**_. Billy saw ya run into him after you ran away from here."

Harley laughed; this she could do. "Billy's also a drunk who spends his nights nursing a magnum of vodka. And you trust a drunkard's words?"

"Well, I was with him," the thug that had begun the conversation stated with a smirk. He was a young, red-headed lad named Leon. Harley held back her glower, "Fine," she sighed, "so I ran into the Bat. I came back didn't I? At least I wasn't killed or something. I'm lucky he didn't turn me in."

"Yeah," her heart picked up again in fright at the sound of that crooning voice, "that is _**interesting**_. Actually...that's the key question here."

And he appeared, sans coat into the light of the kitchen doorway, his head craned down. He smacked his lips and raised an eyebrow at her. He was demanding an answer. Harley tried not to show her growing unease. "It really is, isn't it? But I can't speak for the man." She forced her voice not to tremble and shrugged. "Maybe he had a lot on his agenda. Who can say with that goof?"

"I bet you could," Leon stated. "I mean you've been gone three days, right? You spend all of those with him?"

"Seriously, what would he want with me? Some old couple was taking care of me," the lie came so easily, "apparently whoever Batsy is got them to look after me. When I was able to get my senses together I came back. Besides, Leon, right? I really don't think it's _**your**_ business as what 'lil Harley does. So why don't you shut your yap?!" Her voice had risen quickly, more so than it ever had before. Harley blinked.

The Joker saw merely watched. Perhaps he too was a little taken back. Leon frowned deeply. "When'd you get so saucy?"

"When you get so nosy? What ya gonna do cuss me out? Curse my names to the heavens?" She twittered. "Idiotic, flea bitten whelp." She muttered. The man was out of his seat and had her by the coat lapels. Harley's nose flared.

"Go on, hit me." Leon bit.

Harley laughed, "Hit you? No, no..." She grinned and brought her knee up and into his groin. "I'd prefer that." He yelped and fell backwards, clutching himself. "You...bitch," he squeaked.

The Joker laughed, lowly at first and then it grew and he was laughing full out. Harley clenched her fists, but that didn't conceal the tremor that shot through her. That wasn't his enjoying someone else's pain laugh. That was a laugh that slowly grew more disdainful. Was it directed at her or Leon? She bit her lip, but the Joker was at her side within minutes.

"Now don't you go no where, Harls," he patted her head, "we need to have a little...tal-k." He popped the last letter and was then gone. She heard his footsteps heading towards their shared room. She backed up and began walking quickly towards the door. She had only made it into the hall when she heard the slam resound down the hallway. That made her quicken even more.

"Oh, _**puddin**_'..." That made her break out into a full-fledged run. So maybe he hadn't liked the chaotic mess? She let out a frightened squeak, hearing his bounding footsteps now as he ran to catch her. The exit was just ahead of her. She grabbed the handle and was able to pull open the door a good fraction, but then a purple-gloved hand stopped her from opening it further.

She desperately pulled on the handle. She needed out, but then another hand wrapped around her waist and hauled her back. She squealed and turned around lashing out. She wanted out! She wanted out! The Joker easily overpowered her and held her pressed against the door. He towered over her while holding her wrists above her head.

"Where ya goin'?" The lilt was not playful.

"I want a pack of cigarettes." Her voice was small

"You don't smoke."

"About time I started then."

He gripped her wrists tighter, "We're going to try this again. Where are ya going, Harley?"

She clenched her eyes at his growl.

"You weren't thinking about just up and leaving me were you? Are you leaving me for the Bat? Hmmm?"

"No, I just w-wanted f-fresh air."

"Our room doesn't say so."

"I couldn't find any clothes."

He was silent then he pulled her off the door and began to drag her down the hall. She fought back vainly.

He paused outside their room and twisted her so her back was to the door. He leaned forward and opened it slightly. "You know you've not fought back in a while," he grinned, but it quickly faded. Next thing she knew she was flying backwards, stumbling through the door as she tried to find footing. The Joker raced after her. He pulled her forward, shut the door and then flung her like a rag doll. Her skull met the aqua surface sharply. She screamed at the pain and felt the gash form on her head, staining the paint red as her legs buckled and she crumpled to the floor.

Then she saw the knife glittering in the light. Her heart skipped a beat in terror. How would he use it this time?

* * *

_**Prompt #39, Aqua.**_

_**It had to happen eventually...This is the longest chapter thus far...And here he is, folks, finally, The Joker. Notify me of any typos...they are easy to be fixed.**_


	13. Be Still Heart, He is Helpless

**Chapter 13: Be Still Heart, He is Helpless **

He was just finishing buttoning up his suit when Alfred appeared in the doorway. Bruce smiled at the man.

"Hey, what did you make for breakfast this morning?"

"Your favorite, Master Bruce, Egg's Benedict just the way you like it." He brought the tray into the room and Bruce's eyes instantly fell on the fuchsia note placed between the plate and a mug of coffee. He raced over to it and snatched the piece of paper. He also took the steaming coffee cup and brought it up to his lips as he unfolded the stationery. The greeting line, however, caused him to pull it away.

_**Dear Batsy or Bruce,**_

_**Thanks for the hospitality. It's not often a girl like me gets to stay in a fancy mansion and get treated like royalty for a few days, but we both knew it wouldn't last. I don't think I have to tell you where I went, but I want to apologize for just up and leaving.**_

_**I don't want to cause you any trouble or be any trouble. What would the press say if they found out that Bruce Wayne was harboring a wanted criminal and supposed psychopath? Ya don't need a tarnished image on my account. Also, I didn't want the Joker to find out your secret. He would have come for me eventually. I couldn't bring that upon you. I'm sorry. You're a great guy, don't let my behavior make you think any less, but I just couldn't stay. You know me, the little rebel.**_

_**Thanks for the bandaging, the supervision, the care, and tell Alfred thanks for the great food! You need to learn to cook, Bruce and he's the guy for the job. I'll not let it slip that you're Batman. I owe you my life. I'll never be able to repay that so I hope you take my measly word. I'll keep it, pink it swear. Seriously, I will keep your secret safe. You deserve that. I wish I could stay, but you know Mr. J.**_

_**Love, **_

_**Harleen Quinzel**_

Bruce stared at the ink, indigo on the paper for a moment and then his eyes strayed back to Alfred who nodded. "She's gone, gave me the honor to call her a cab, though."

Bruce let the note fall to the floor. Alfred sighed and came to stand before him.

"You did her good, Master Wayne. But it's like you said, she went back on her own accord no matter how misguided her reasons were. Her heart was in the right place."

"He's going to hurt her, Alfred."

The man gripped his shoulders, silent for a moment. Then he nodded again, his eyes staring past Bruce's head and through the window, "I know, sir, I know." Bruce clenched his jaw. "I'm not very hungry, Alfred, do you think-" He didn't have to finish, Alfred just turned and picked up the tray without another word.

* * *

**_Prompt #80, Indigo._**

**_My favorite line? "He's going to hurt her, Alfred." I can only imagine the feebleness of his voice at those words._**


	14. Help Comes In Unexpected People

**Chapter 14: Help Comes In Unexpected People**

Her shoulder was searing. In the darkness, that ever silent specter, there was silence. She sniffled and attempted to sit up finally succeeding in the cramped space—a closet—but not without some further agitation of her sliced shoulder. Gingerly her fingers found the wound as she brought her knees even closer to her chest. She whimpered in both pain and loss, tracing the "J" that would forever scar her shoulder.

She had failed; she didn't take the opportunity when it was given to her and when she had finally made up her mind it was too late. She would be Harley Quinn forever. She cried in loss. Where had she gone wrong? She had graduated with a high degree in Psychology from Gotham University, been a top student not to mention a wonderful gymnast. And she'd given it up, all for a psychotic clown! She felt anger bubble up in her. Anger at herself and anger at the Joker.

He didn't love her; he would never love her; he was just a kid in a candy shop and she was his favorite candy. He didn't want to devour her, but he didn't want to throw her away either. Possessive, antisocial freak! Why didn't she stay with Bruce when she had the chance? It was gone, all gone now.

_**Abandon all hope ye who enter here...**_

This was a Hell almost perfect, no even more ghastly then Dante could could have described. Lucifer had escaped his icy prison and found it in his shriveled heart to cause all his minions and castaways the utmost pain, and she, oh, she was his favorite. She was the little lamb, the ignorant jester who had fallen for his honey words and followed him loyally until all her innocence was gone. He didn't want a partner, he wanted someone he could break and yet despite the continual abuse would crawl back faithfully. She was his ultimate experiment.

She was tired of it. She wanted freedom yet, it appeared she wanted it too late. She wrapped her arms around her knees and felt her chest quake in sobs she dared not voice too loudly. She didn't because there was no telling when someone would enter the room. She leaned her head back against the wall, and bit her lip to further be sure of her silence. She heard main the door open.

It wasn't long before she heard the lock on the closet being tripped as well and she pressed herself further against the wall as light poured in. Instead of her ghastly abuser, however, there stood one of the thugs, Billy. He was sober for once and in the light she could see that he held her "costume" in his hands.

"Can you stand?"

She slowly got to her feet and Billy smiled. She recalled how nice he was sober; she also knew why he drank in the first place. He too had his innocence destroyed by this job. He held out the clothes to her. "Put these on," he turned away once she had taken them. "I'm getting you out. If it has to be one of us, I choose you."

Her heart soared and she wanted to cry in happiness. She ignored her injuries and threw on the outfit. Once she was done Billy lead her out into the cream hallway of the theater. "I know how to get a message to Batman. We're gonna have to get out. The Joker's away, but we need to hurry. You saw how fast he came back before."

* * *

**_Prompt #27, Cream._**

**_Author's favorite line: "Abandon all hope ye who enter here..."_**

**_Allusion is a great thing! And that line fits so perfectly._**


	15. Selfless and Freedom's Price

**Chapter 15: Selfless and Freedom's Price**

She stared into the camera, face covered in her layer of paints. Her hair was pulled back in pigtails and her ensemble of crimson and black was in place.

She glanced at Billy who nodded. She brought her gaze back down.

"Commissioner, I know this is going to seem like a strange request, especially coming from me, but can you please get this to Batman? I know you'll watch this through just to make sure, it doesn't explode or anything, and I understand. But I give you my word this isn't some ploy to further the Joker's gains and I have no ill-intent." Her voice was small, she wasn't acting; she hoped the Commissioner and anyone else who saw this tape would believe that.

She pulled her hair from its pigtails and allowed it fall as it wished to frame her face.

"Batman, I'm sorry. I know I ran off without telling you. I know I came back, but I don't want to be here, please," she tried to keep her voice steady, but it quivered, "I've had enough." And she felt the tears gather in her eyes. "He doesn't love me, okay? I know it! I was so stupid, and you made me realize that. Please," she was now crying. "Please forgive me. She began wiping away her paint. "I don't want to be Harley Quinn anymore, I want to be Harleen Quinzel again."

She hadn't wanted to break down, but she was. She was lucky she had a chair behind her. She pulled it out and the camera moved to better focus on her in her new position. "He gets worse every day. I thought I could change him, but I should have known better, I was a Psychologist for heaven's sake! I just want out, I want to be normal. I want to feel the sun and not kill anymore. No one ever deserved what I did, but I was only trying to make Mr. J happy.

"Truth is I always felt sick about what I did. I shouldn't have to do stuff like that to prove my love. Love?! Ha! I'm sick of the Joker! I'm sick of everything. I want to go home...if I had a home. Batman, you're my last hope. If you believe any of this and I won't blame you if you don't please meet me on Pier 156 as soon as possible. I just want to go home. I need help...I don't want this anymore. It's not and was never fun. I've wasted a year chasing after a manic clown who enjoys only my naivity and utter loyalty. All he wanted to break me until I lived off his every word. You saved me from that, so please I made a mistake in coming back to him. I didn't think I had any other choice, but now I'm not sure. I'm willing to take the risk.

"Batman, I'm begging for help." Her voice had wavered throughout, but now that the message was done she broke down. She leaned over in the chair and hissed at her shoulder, but allowed her body to give into overpowering sobs. She buried her head in her arms and her wails arose without hesitation. Behind her a dusty rose curtain billowed in a draft. They were in an abandoned building complex overlooking the very pier she had mentioned.

When she felt a hand on her shoulder she raised her head slightly. "Thank you, Billy, I really hope you don't-"

Billy sighed and interrupted her, "I'm taking this to the station now and dropping it off. Then I'm heading back. Take care, Harley." He patted her head like a father and left. That's when Harley knew.

He had done this, knowing the Joker would find him out. She fell into sobs again. Why? Why?!

* * *

**_Prompt #45, Dusty Rose._**

**_Inspired by the episode "Mad Love" from Batman: The Animated Series. Harley, however, has no ulterior motive and is not planning on deceiving Bruce in this._**


	16. He Came

**Chapter 16: He Came**

The Tumbler sped through the streets towards Gotham Bay, towards Pier 156, towards Harley. He had only needed to see that video once. He had ignored the Commissioner's warning of the possibility it _**was**_ a trap.

Something told him, Harley wouldn't do that to him. Her words, "I owe you," ran through his racing mind. She wouldn't. She wanted someone to have faith in her and though he wasn't sure why, he would be that for her. She could be saved and she was making an effort for that. She had made this decision and he could only surmise the circumstances under which it took her three days to contact him again. He pressed down on the gas petal even more.

Why this fervor to save her? Was it because he still felt guilty for Rachel's death? Did he not want to see another fall because of that clown? Yes, but that last reason was more accurate than the other, but there was something else heating his veins, pumping him with adrenaline. It was still a little bud, but he knew it was compassion. He wanted to save her; what he had seen of her stripped of her paint and in a normal setting had proven the woman that lurked inside. She was battered and weathered, but she was still there and just waiting to blossom again.

Bruce wanted to see her blossom. He wanted to see her genuine smile, all her little quips. He saw a rebel, but wasn't he the same? She had a fire, so did he. They were more alike than he had originally thought, more than she could know. He thought himself the best to led her through the time that seemed to want to smother her flame. He and the Joker may have been two pieces of a puzzle, but somehow he could almost see a partner piece in Harley.

He had to save her. The docks came into view and he ripped through the narrow paths just barely. He saw the blue numbers of 156 illuminated by his headlights. He stopped and after a moment got out of the vehicle.

Only the crashing of the water and the sound of tinging weights filled his ears along with the howl of the wind and the salty scent of the ocean in his nose. He would wait. Perhaps she had hidden, or maybe the Joker had found her already. His hands clenched beneath his gloves until he thought his knuckles turned white. He would wait, though, he could wait.

Four minutes passed.

"Bruce?!"

He whipped around at the feminine voice. There she stood, decked out in her Harley Quinn outfit, make-up gone. He didn't have to answer, she ran to him and embraced him, falling into tears.

This week had seen the most times Harley had ever cried for reasons other than pain in years. She buried her head into his hard, plated chest, but she didn't care. He had come.

He had come.

* * *

_**Prompt #3, Blue.**_

_**Sorry for the prolonged wait. I got some nastiness and felt horrible. Expect regular updates again. Once again this scene was inspired by the episode "Mad Love" from Batman: the Animated Series only Harley's not tricking him and its not a ploy to destroy the Joker.**_


	17. Return

**Chapter 17: Return**

Alfred was waiting when the Tumbler pulled onto the platform. He had been curious as to why Commissioner Gordon had breathlessly demanded Bruce to come to the station. Imagine his surprise when the roof opened and not only did his costumed employer step out, but he helped someone else out as well. He took in the petite blonde, and his lips pulled into a smile.

"Ms. Quinzel," he bowed.

"Alfred," she wrung her hands and smiled.

He nodded, "So I suppose the same room as last time?"

"If it's not too much trouble." She glanced around nervously. Bruce shook his head.

"It isn't."

She smiled and Alfred walked up to her, "Allow me to escort you while Master Bruce makes himself presentable for the rest of society." She nodded and the butler led her away.

"Do you require any mending this time?" He noticed her flush. "My shoulder; I made him angry. I tried to run away. Just some bandages, maybe a little ointment, but I'd say the damage is already done."

"You made it out, Harleen, you made it out."

She smiled softly, but it wasn't without doubt. "No, not yet. I've only begun a long and drawn out process. It has only begun; he'll begin searching for me. He sees me as his, a possession to be controlled." Alfred had led her to the lift once again. He turned to her, his gray hair catching the underground lighting. "Master Bruce and I will protect you, I swear it." She sighed, "Thank you, Alfred, thank you so much. I wish it wasn't necessary, though. I've done enough to burden society."

"Well, see this as a new beginning to make up for all of that." Harleen nodded at this. "So tell me, then, why did you come back? Not that I'm against it, but I must say I am curious." They stepped on the lift. Harley stared out beyond the steel cage, back the direction they had come. "I was tired of disillusionment. I was tired of my denial. I couldn't take it anymore. I never should went back in the first place, but I still had a ration of hope, I suppose. I realized upon arrival, however, how big of a mistake I had made. I tried to run away, but he caught me. Alfred, a thug helped me out, and like a big martyr he's probably paying dearly for his transgression. I didn't want anymore pain because of me, but who I am kidding...I already know what kind of impact I'm going to have on your lives." She sniffled.

"We don't mind. After Ra's Al Ghul attacked Wayne Manor the first time, harboring a fugitive won't be the least of our problems. You decided to return here, and we're happy to have you."

Harley smiled tears shining in her eyes. "I trust you both," she whispered, "you took me in and didn't judge me despite knowing who I was. No one's treated me like that in a year. I feel like I don't deserve this treatment; even now I want to run, not because I want to go back, but because I want to keep you both safe. It's only a matter of time..." Alfred placed a hand on her shoulder, "There is a positive in every negative, Ms. Quinzel. Perhaps it's the type of change that Mr. Wayne needs. Look on the bright side and embrace it again."

* * *

**_Prompt #10, Gray._**


	18. His Almost Slipup

**Chapter 18: His Almost Slip-up**

Bruce raised his eyes from the letter he was typing on his laptop.

"What did you say?"

Harley turned from the window she had been staring out of in silence for a while. She had accompanied him into the study where he had come to type a letter to Mr. Lucius Fox. She had spoken, but his attention had been so diverted and her silence so prolonged that he'd missed her statement.

"I said, thank you for the clothes. They all fit."

"Oh," he smiled, "you're welcome. Did the, um," he cleared his throat and watched as Harley smirked.

"Yeah, the underwear too." Bruce sighed, "The salesclerk picked them out, after Alfred requested them. That way no one knows you're here just yet. If I had asked, Paparazzi would be everywhere. They weren't too racy were they?"

Harley giggled, it was genuine, and he found he liked it. "No, they were appropriate. Why the interest in my under-coverings, Mr. Wayne?" She cocked an eyebrow playfully. "Hey, I saw some of those and I was worried you'd be uncomfortable with the fact I'd bought them for you."

"Imagining me in them?" His eyes widened at the question. If he hadn't before, he got some images now. She shook her head, "I'm kidding," she urged, embarrassed herself. Had she crossed the line? She quickly made up for it. "Hey, I have a question. What do you think about me changing my hair color?"

His eyes had been averted at her tactless question, but he returned them to her now. "Change your hair color?" Harleen nodded, "Yeah, I'm a natural blonde through and through, but since I'm starting anew I was thinking maybe a change would be good." She pulled out a folded piece of paper from her light colored hoodie and stood up. She brought over to him. He took a break from the letter and held out his hand for the offered paper, a magazine article. He opened it and stared at the hair-dye advertisement. A pen had circled one particular color, a rich mahogany. "It'd still match my skin tone without bleaching my complexion." She offered.

"Harleen, you don't have to do this. If you want to stay a blonde, then stay. I think you'll look very nice with this color, though, I'll agree. I just don't want you changing something that will take months to return to normal if you don't really want to. Harley Quinn may have been a blonde, but so was Harleen Quinzel. Don't change to fit society, you can still be yourself."

"So you don't see Harley Quinn whenever you look at me," she whispered, "everyone else will, you know." Bruce stood up and cupped her cheek. His thumb brushed the corner of her eye, catching a falling tear. "No, I don't. I see you, whoever you are, Harleen. You would look nice as with this red-brown shade of hair, but Harley, I think you look beautiful just as you are."

He felt her cheek warm beneath his palm. She gulped and bit her lip. His eyes were drawn there and unconsciously he leaned forward, an impulse catching him. He caught himself, however, and made it look like he was tucking a strand of hair behind her ear before pulling back, his heart pounding at what he had almost done. He smiled at her and sat back down, however, keeping his turmoil within.

* * *

**_Prompt #12, Mahogany._**

**_=3...Let romance begin! *Sounds trumpet*...Or...not...Bruce is so awkward...I just want to pinch his cheeks._**


	19. The Words We Say

**Chapter 19: The Words We Say**

"What are you doing?"

"Making your bed; I told Alfred I wanted to feel productive around here and offered to take some of his workload. You don't have to pay me. You feed and clothe me and that's enough, trust me. I couldn't ask for more."

Bruce blinked, but nodded, taking a seat to watch her. "How are you adjusting?"

She smiled, "Alright I suppose." She smoothed out the wrinkles on the moccasin sheet she had placed upon the bed before grabbing the blanket from behind her and setting that atop the thin material. "It's been a month. The Joker's no closer to finding me; I'm holding it together. But, I suppose you can both empathize and sympathize with me on the paranoid feeling. You go out every night, fearing that it may be your last, fearing that your identity could be discovered. There must be other anxieties, but that's all I can come up with right now."

He was silent and then he heard her sigh. "May I ask a question?"

"You just did," he smiled. She snickered, but it was short. "Why did you do it? Why did you bring me back here that night instead of taking me to the hospital?" She pulled the blanket taut as she awaited his reply.

"They would have sent you straight to Arkham and the Joker would have found out very easily. You were more than just physically exhausted. You needed to recuperate."

"I see," she nodded; she had was now evening out his comforter. Bruce watched her, "At least that was what I told myself and it seems logical enough. I just did what I did, though, to be honest. I didn't know what possessed me to bring you back. I wanted to save you. The Joker, he won your affections by seeming to genuinely listen, support you. He allowed you the freedom that the rigidity of your up-bringing didn't allow. He told you to embrace your inner chaos, that rebel. He seemed the first one to accept you, didn't he?"

She whipped around and glared at him as he stared at her coolly, no accusation present. That was what pissed her off. The lack of judgment, just stated facts, like he knew them. He did, he was Batman, she rationalized. They were true, but she had always thought that she had kept her thoughts to herself well. Was he just good at reading her?

"Are you going to tell me how naïve I was for falling for it? I'm twenty-eight, Bruce, I know I'm too mature to have fallen for that, but no one had ever been that accepting. I either gained odd stares or ridicule for my rather, wild side...at least it seemed that way. I felt as if everyone was judging me, but the Joker convinced me to not care. And even now, I find myself doing so. So if this is a lecture on how _**intelligent**_ I proved myself to be with that major mess-up, can it," she turned away.

"You have a point with what you said, you were naïve and that wasn't a smart move, but you seem to realize that yourself. I wasn't stating that to reprimand you, though." She was fluffing pillows now. "Then why bring up that subject?" She heard him get up.

"I wanted you to know that there is someone else who thinks you're great just the way you are, and they will mean it genuinely; it won't be to break you. It was good advice he gave you amazingly; there comes a day our true nature becomes undeniable." She turned just in time to see him walk out the door.

* * *

**_Prompt #97, Moccasin._**

**_Someone else who thinks she's great as is, eh, Bruce? And do you a person in mind...like, oh...*whistles*...You? You give sound advice. Harley, I say, you're in good hands._**


	20. Beginning to Teach A Man to Fish

**Chapter 20: Beginning to Teach A Man to Fish**

Her eyes were focused. In the light they appeared cyan. He watched her breathe.

"I might be a little rusty," she called to him.

Bruce nodded, "It's fine, but I'll need a place to start with your training. You want to learn to protect yourself, I'll teach you that."

She nodded and began the basic fitness tests. She wasn't bad, but there was room for much improvement. She didn't stand a chance against the Joker and his thugs, but she was more fit than the average person.

"I used to be a gymnast, you know. I stopped before I went into college, time constraints and all. I always wanted to get back into it, though." She said to him as she took a break after completing his tasks.

"A gymnast, huh?" Bruce was impressed.

"Yeah, my parents thought it would be a unique extracurricular activity that would be interesting to anyone who met me. I had to agree, but you know, the requests to do this and that eventually got tiring." She frowned. Bruce laughed, "And here I was going ask you to walk the balance beam."

"Maybe for you, I will, once I get back into peak shape. I suppose I could stand to lose a few pounds too." She laughed lightly before finishing, "Thanks for taking it upon yourself to teach me defense." She got a shrug from him, "I was trained by ninjas in Tibet, so I believe I'm the best teacher you could find, and I'm not saying that to be cocky." She stared at him, "Wow no wonder you hold your own against J." It was her turn to be impressed. "Tibetan ninjas..."

"The League of Shadows, but they turned out to be crooks and almost killed me and cost me the city."

"Fear Night," Harley nodded, "the incident in the Narrows those years ago?"

"Yeah, that was my first feat as Batman...Harley, I won't always be around to protect you and Alfred can only do so much. I would love it if you didn't have to learn to fight yourself, but I believe it'd benefit both of us. Besides you've heard the saying, 'Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day, but-"

"Teach a man how to fish," Harley cut him off with a smiled, "and you feed him for a lifetime. I'll be your best student, Bruce. I want to fend for myself. I'm independent and it really does bother me to have others having to set me back on my feet."

"Ah, my life was boring, it gives me something to do," Bruce laughed. Harley punched him playfully. He rubbed his shoulder, "Ow."

"Oh, c'mon, you're Batman! I hit like a girl...That didn't hurt."

"You hit a bruise." She gasped. "Oh, I'm sorry." He laughed at her sincerity.

* * *

**_Prompt #100, Cyan._**

Chapter 20...Wow, allow me to revel in my awe. I'm really enjoying the reviews! I love to know what you all enjoy and what I could improve if you see anything! Your comments let me know you're still interested. Glad to hear from you all.

My favorite part of 20...Tibetan ninjas...XD.


	21. The Enemy Against Which He is Powerless

**Chapter 21: The Enemy Even Batman is Powerless Against**

She sighed as she did another push-up, ignoring the pain in her abdomen. It would only be another thirty minutes and she could cool down and then go lie in bed for the rest of the day. Just another thirty minutes...

'...25...26...27...28...Ignore the pain...29...30...31...Ow...32...33...34...35...' She hissed at the next jolt of pain across her lower body. She went back and finally she reached fifty. She fell back on her back and began the crunches. Exercise was suppose to make these pains go away.

It wasn't her fault that she was on her cycle. Damn monthly visitor, damn blood, damn it all! She gritted her teeth and continued.

She fell into bed later, happily letting a sigh escape her lips. She curled on her side before recalling the bottle of aspirin on the bedside table. She opened the top and took two red-capped pills. She downed them with water and then returned to her position. The fatigue, the workout, it all made her tired. Before she knew it she was asleep.

She groaned at a pair of hands that gently shook her awake.

"Harley are you alright?"

She grunted and smacked them away in order to fall back into the dreamland she hadn't fully escaped.

"Harley," she gave a sound of irritation at her name, "Alfred said you've been asleep since 3."

"Yeah," she muttered, "I have been, now please do go away so I can continue to be asleep."

"Are you feeling alright?" It was then realized it was Bruce's tenor.

"No, Bruce, I'm not...I'm sleeping during the day, that's not normal by my standards."

"Do you have a fever?"

"No," she shifted away, "my stomach hurts. Now please go."

"Is it food-"

She whipped around and opened her eyes to glare at Bruce in the evening light. "No it's not food-poisoning. It's not the stomach flu, the actual flu, acid reflux, or whatever else you can come up with. I'm on my damn period!" She was still in pain and very tired, which made Harley a happy camper named Grumpy.

Bruce nodded, "I see," it was plain to see he was embarrassed and perhaps a little taken back. Harley sighed, "I appreciate the concern, but I'll be fine, I promise, Bruce. I'm just tired and still in pain."

"Do you, uh...want a heating pad or something?" He scratched his head, feeling pity for the girl. Her words were laced with exhaustion and just a little anger, but he supposed he understood. He was glad he wasn't a woman.

* * *

**_Prompt #1, Red._**

**_Um, this is was hilarious to write! I was like hmmm...Well she is a woman...It's bound to happen, it'll make it realistic, and it was an opportunity to make Bruce uncomfortable. Who am I to pass up such a golden chance? So basically, there's not a thing I don't like about this one. Grumpy Harley taking it out on poor Bruce. Even Batman is powerless against a woman on the rag, hence the title. Enjoy my duckies! ^^_**


	22. He Sees What Bruce Hides

**Chapter 22: He Sees What Bruce Hides**

He towel-dried his hair.

"Golfing, Alfred?" He stared in his mirror at the butler.

"Yes, Mr. Wayne, you have scarce done anything outside this Manor other than going to the board meetings held once a week for over a month. People are already suspicious; I've had to appease callers and tell them that you were researching ways to fill the library once again with all the tomes that the fire took. You'll be fine, Master Bruce, Mr. Fox will be there."

"I feel bad about her leaving her here to be bored, Alfred."

"Ms. Quinzel will hold until you return. We'll bake, she seems to enjoy that."

"You know, we should go on a cruise in the yacht this weekend. Get her out of the house. I bet she'll like the ocean, and Bruce Wayne can have a vacation from continuing to restore his home." He pulled on a pair of khaki shorts and then grabbed the light polo lying on his bed.

"Afraid Ms. Quinzel will feel caged?"

"Aren't you?"

Alfred smiled, "No, not quite yet. She's still becoming accustomed to her freedom. And with you training her she's been very content. Although, its cute to see you concerned for her comfort. But, excuse me, is this quite normal now? In the beginning, yes, this caution was necessary, but I believe your interest in her is exceeding mere host to guest affections."

Bruce turned to him. Exceeding host to guest kindness? He gulped inwardly. "What do you mean?"

Alfred smiled, "The fact you asked is proof enough. You know very well what I mean, Master Bruce. It's not a crime to be attracted to her. I dare say its refreshing."

"But she's still recovering from the Joker. I don't want to press her. I don't want her to think I'm using her." He had spoken so quickly he had no idea what he was saying, but as soon as it had all left his mouth, he knew how true it all was. Harleen Quinzel, she was drawing him in.

"Well, in order to deal with all of that, answer to yourself why you like her."

Bruce, now fully dressed turned to Alfred. He stared at the man for a while, contemplating. "Everything," he finally said. "When she laughs for real her blue eyes light up and she gets these little dimples in her cheeks. When she's sad, I just want to grab her and assault whoever made her feel that way. She's beautiful and loyal. I can look at her and know that despite what she's been through, there's a fire in her that is strong. It attracts me. Name anything, and I bet I find it attractive. I feel so wrong for it. She's just gotten out of an abusive relationship. _**I **_don't want to be used either."

"I don't think you have to worry about that. That would have come long before now. She's still got a head on her shoulders. Love never happens when you want or expect it to, Master Bruce."

* * *

**_Prompt #40, Khaki._**

**_Alfred is on to you, Bruce. He knows...He always knows._**


	23. To The Victor Go The Spoils

**Chapter 23: To The Victor Go The Spoils**

Alfred's words had struck a chord in him. He squelched them whenever he was around Harley, but tonight it would prove futile.

She had challenged him to a race, fully aware she would lose, and had proclaimed that whoever won could ask the loser for one favor. She thought he would ask her to maybe bake him something; he seemed to greatly enjoy the pastries she made. She wasn't sure what she could ask him, she didn't give it much thought because she knew she would lose. Why challenge him when she knew he would win? Because she liked doing things for him, she liked to see him smile. Something about his demeanor, his ever present kindness had slowly been growing on her. It had grown from surprise, to appreciation, to respect, and now—this. It could have just been the result of living with a man who was not only kind, but handsome—could anyone deny that he wasn't?

He accepted her, but it was pure. He didn't want to break her, abuse her, or use her as a tool. It made her gut jump and gave her a healthy flush that had settled in far before Alfred called the signal for them to be off.

It was a three lap race, that way it could be further training as well as a fun competition. She was laughing even as she lost, but Bruce was proud of her. She smiled shyly; he was proud of her. The Joker had never been satisfied. Bruce just expected her to do her best, and yes, improve, but any small gain was grand in his eyes.

"So what do you want?" She questioned.

Bruce shook his head, "You rest, I'll tell you later. Take a breather. Besides I'm not absolutely sure." He watched her pout playfully, "Keep me in suspense, huh? Geez, can't even make my misery quick." He really had wanted her to rest, and he was planning on asking her to bake, but those flush lips caused another request to word itself in his mind, but he pushed it away, or at least tried as he chuckled at her antics.

Later that night he walked into the kitchen to find her reading at the bar. Her hair was down, and her back was to him. He leaned against the door a moment, then decided he'd ask her to make him some apple tarts for his favor. He walked into the room, alerting her before he spoke as he stood a little behind her.

"I think I know what I'd like to request as the prize for my victory."

When she turned around and slid off the stood, however, that suggestion left him. Her blonde hair framed her face in a beautiful cascade, her sapphire eyes stared sharply out of her healthy face. She was wearing a crimson gown that stopped mid-thigh. That color was definitely dangerous on her.

"Yeah?" She asked and then flushed when she saw his eyes trail her figure. He pulled himself quickly out of that daze, though, reprimanding himself. He took a step forward and tried to focus on anything but her. "What are you reading?" He placed a hand over her shoulder and touched the book, but nothing was said as the appendage slid off and along the counter coming to rest on the surface just behind her head. He had unconsciously trapped her there.

He had no choice then, but to focus on her. He stared down at her, realizing how close she was. His other arm gently took her waist as his eyes flickered to those coral lips of hers and then her own sapphire irises. He was close enough that the glance was unmistakable. He was nervous, though. He didn't want to instigate a contact she didn't want. Perhaps she realized this, or maybe she was just impatient.

Her hands rose to his face and cupped both his cheeks as she raised her head and kissed him chastely. She pulled back and stared at him. He met her halfway for a second, longer kiss, where the natural curve of their lips were matched. Then the hand that had once occupied the counter took the back of her head as they pulled back. Her hands slid to his hair as well and their eyes closed.

The third kiss started like the second, but soon they had tilted their heads for better angles. He pulled her against him and her mouth opened beneath his. As his tongue found a partner in her own, he knew how long he had wanted this. He loved the little sounds she gave off that told him she was enjoying this as much as he was. He felt the reluctance when she pulled back.

God, though, she was beautiful. He smiled at her and tilted her chin. "I'll take that as my favor," he kissed again her gently, pulling away slowly. "Goodnight, Harley."

* * *

**_Prompt #16, Coral_**

**_8D...Finally! I really hope no one thinks this is rushed. Technically she's been there over a month now. Bruce likes Harley! Hahaha! ........Uh oh...The Joker isn't gonna like this. ....*mutters angrily*...Too bad he can't be my Joker from "The Ultimate Joke"...I like that rendition better._**


	24. Two Steps Forward

**Chapter 24: Two Steps Forward**

The night it happened and the next days that followed were totally different.

Neither of them talked about the kisses, both were afraid the other might now regret the exchange, but neither did. They forced themselves to act as if nothing had happened, secretly wanting the other to say something.

He was preparing for a dinner three days after "the incident" and he had forgotten his tie in his room. Alfred was currently out shopping so when he entered and found Harley putting away towels in his armoire, he was surprised, but suddenly he was struck with an idea.

"Harley can you tie a tie?"

She turned from placing a green towel on the shelf to stare at him in bemusement, "You don't know how?"

He shook his head and Harley laughed. "The mighty Bruce Wayne, The Batman, doesn't know how to tie a tie." She wiped her hands on her jeans and walked towards him. "Alright where is it?" He handed it to her.

"I'll show you how to do it." She walked up to him and placed it around his neck. Instead of watching her hands, however, he watched her as she spoke. She only finished the first knot when she realized he wasn't paying attention. She became very aware of his intense expression on her. It both caused her butterflies and irritated her.

"Bruce, you-"

Her reprimand was cut off when his hands fell to hers still on his tie. "I actually know how to do it." He whispered. Her eyes which had been focused on his chest to conceal her emotions raised to his own. "Then why did you ask me?"

"I want to end this awkwardness between us." He said. "I wanted to talk about the night when we kissed." Her eyes seemed to dull, but he squeezed her hands. "I don't regret it."

She gasped, but smiled in relief and he brought her hands to his lips. "I think I may have perhaps pressed it too far too soon, though. How would you feel about a getaway? We could go on a small cruise in my yacht. Away from Gotham, just the ocean and us?"

"Will Alfred get a vacation too?"

"If you want he can come too, and just enjoy the scenery as well."

Harley nodded, "I wouldn't mind." Bruce smiled, "Then it's done. I'll call and tell Alfred to get you a swim suit. Any preference?"

"A black bikini?" She asked. Bruce chuckled and leaned down to kiss her cheek quickly before pulling away and finishing his tie. "Very well, I'll see you later on tonight. Why don't you get to packing? We'll leave first thing tomorrow." He left her caressing her cheek fondly, blushing prettily.

* * *

_Prompt #6, Green_

**_Kiss of the Breeze here while your authoress is on vacation for a week and is without the net. Lucky for you guys she had a number of these things written in advance. She loves you so much that instead of making you wait she's gotten me to update for her. Fun fact, she forgot to title this one and I had to think on the fly. _**

**_You guys should leave her extra love in her absence! XD_**


	25. Left in the Right Hands

**Chapter 25: Left in the Right Hands**

"As requested, sir." Bruce raised his head from watching the television to observe Alfred standing behind him .

At his side was a slumbering Harleen, who Alfred was staring at gently. "What'd you do, train her to death?" Bruce grinned, "No, she did that herself by packing." Alfred shook his head, but held out the yellow, plastic bag in his hands. "Her swimsuit."

Bruce glanced at Harley before slowly getting up, "I'll put it in her room."

"That won't be necessary, sir, I'll do it," Alfred walked into the entrance to climb the stairs. Bruce followed him. "So, sir, the Caribbean, this time I hear?" Bruce nodded, "Yes, I believe the climate would be nice change."

"I agree," Alfred nodded, stepping off the stairs and into the hall, "but I must decline your offer, Master Bruce." There was a silence in which the younger stared at him a moment, "You mean, you're not going?" The butler sighed, "No, you'll need someone to watch over this place in your absence."

He was met with a cocked eyebrow from Bruce as they entered Harley's room and Alfred set the bag atop her bed. "Why are you really not going?" Alfred grinned, "You learned something after all. You and Ms. Quinzel deserve some time to yourselves, just the two of you. Besides you're an adult, you don't need your butler to come along."

"I wanted to give you a vacation too, Alfred." The older man waved his hand at that. "You don't think leaving me with a mansion all to myself and all your expensive cars to do with as I please isn't a vacation?" He smirked and Bruce shook his head.

"I know you kissed her," Alfred said as they left the room. "I passed by the kitchen on the way to my room that night. You two have plenty to settle without my presence there to aggravate. This way, you don't have to worry about me making it awkward. The two of deserve your own getaway; those men that captain your yacht are company enough."

They were at the bottom of the stairs. Bruce peered into the living room, where Harley was still asleep, "You don't think it'll be too awkward for her to be out there with just me and a crew?" Alfred grinned, "No doubt it will, but I believe it is a hurtle the two of you can face. She has you to talk to; she needs to get to know you more."

"What if I don't know how to help her?"

And there it was; this was Bruce's fear. Alfred placed a comforting hand atop his shoulder. The younger was coming to realize how human he was. Bruce was learning how to balance Batman and Bruce Wayne. He was scared that he would be unable to help the woman he was now coming to adore very deeply. "I have faith in you, Master Bruce." Alfred nodded, serious.

"Bruce?" Came Harley's sleepy voice.

Bruce glanced at Alfred and retreated back into the room to Harley. Alfred smiled softly; she was in wonderful hands.

* * *

**Prompt #56, Yellow.**

**Alfred is my favorite character! 3**


	26. And Sometimes Words Aren't Needed

**Chapter 26: And Sometimes Words Aren't Needed**

The crew of the S.S. Larksfield, a large yacht owned by Bruce Wayne himself, had long known the identity of their employer as Batman. He was a good man, though, and very generous so their mouths were sealed upon much of the man's whereabouts. His bringing Harley Quinn aboard had been a shock. They knew of the woman, but after observing her demure nature with Bruce, her utterly feminine curiosity they were unsure how to take it. She seemed very genuine, no ill-intent present in her eyes.

"Mr. Wayne," Bruce had been approached by the yacht's captain while he was on the deck by himself—Harley was being given a tour of the vessel by another crew member.

"Yes, Lysander?"

"My men and I trust you deeply, sir, thus we will not ask you your reasons for bringing the woman on board; it was just a shock."

"I expected it to be," Bruce smiled, "she's a good person, Sander."

"I can see that, as can the others," the man replied, "but I thought I should tell you in case you notice our behavior is a little strange. She will take some adjusting to." Bruce turned his head away from staring out into the golden sea, dyed such by the orb in the sky. "Thanks for telling me." The captain nodded and turned away to go foresee the rest of the preparations. The boat had yet to set off.

Half an hour later, Bruce was still to be found leaning against the yacht's railing on the highest level of the ship as it broke through water. The wind swept through his hair, the tangy scent of the ocean passing his nose. The sounds of the speeding air in his ears drowned away any distant sounds. He shut his eyes for a moment. He was enjoying himself; he could relax.

He cracked open an eye when he heard shuffling close to him. Then the warmth of a body came to his side. He looked to see Harley leaning on the railing too. Once she noticed his attention she stared at him from the corner of her eyes, a shy smile on her face. He chuckled in amusement and moved behind her. He leaned over her smaller body, caging her back to his chest with his arms on either side of her. His hands took hers gently and he tucked her head beneath his chin.

They watched the ocean in a comfortable silence. Neither had to say anything; what was there to say? Her body relaxed against his spoke enough as did his when he straightened back up but stayed close, chest still against her back, hands holding hers.

The golden ocean glittered like her hair in the sun as the wind played about them. He loved her hair down, much like it was where it moved freely and shimmered; tumbling around her face so he could run his fingers through the silky strands. He had discovered how soft they were when he had kissed her in the kitchen. He gave into temptation and tilted his head until his nose was barely brushing her hair.

The scent of jasmine filled his senses. It was her favorite shampoo, and becoming his favorite scent for her. Strong enough to soothe, yet light enough not to overpower. His fingers traced over the back of her hand.

"Do you like it here?" He broke the silence. When she nodded he smiled. "I'm glad." And they fell into silence again, needing nothing more than the other's presence.

* * *

**_Prompt #_****20, Gold.**

**_The fluff abounds again! Yeah, it'll be cute for a few more chapters...but it can't stay that way forever. _**

**_Sorry about the week-long wait for this chapter. I was working on other projects and this one was neglected for a little while. College is about to start once again for me; I'm not happy about that, but I have to get my education.......All I got was a week vacation. Well, I'm back. Lots of love for the reviews I got in my absence. You're all great! Which brings me to...85 reviews! I'm honored! Thanks!_**


	27. You Are Loved

**Chapter 27: You Are Loved**

It was day three of the getaway cruise.

The music filled the space around them as the song started softly, melodically. Her body was held close to his. Her head was resting on his chest, one hand held in one of his. The other was raised to rest, fingers lightly curled on his neck. She breathed in his masculine scent as his other arm was wrapped firmly around her waist.

Their bodies were slowly swaying together with the rhythm. Her eyes were closed as was his as he had his head craned, cheek resting against her head. The song that had begun this had been livelier, allowing for separate movement, but once this song had begun Bruce had only to glance at her and hold out his hand in a simple request; she wasn't asked to comply, but she had. She felt so safe, more than she could ever remember in her life. The melody and moment were full of emotions, so strong and yet gentle that she felt light, her vertigo gone. He led her across the deck as the chorus played.

"_**Everybody wants to be understood**_

_**Well, I can hear you**_

_**Everybody wants to be loved**_

_**Don't give up because you are loved..."**_

On the last word, the song gained gusto. Harley allowed herself to follow Bruce. Her eyes opened as he released her waist and stepped back. He grabbed the hand that fell from his neck and pulled her back to him; side-stepping to each side. She grinned up at him, but then gasped as he turned her around. Her arms twisted to embrace herself and he held her back to his chest, continuing to dance. She closed her eyes again and relaxed. She thought that perhaps she felt something soft whisper across her forehead as the song continued.

"_**Don't give up  
It's just the hurt that you hide  
When you're lost inside  
I...I will be there to find you...**_

**_"Don't give up  
Because you want to burn bright  
If darkness blinds you  
I...I will shine to guide you..."_**

She opened her eyes once again as the song went back to the chorus. She stared into Bruce's and he turned her back around releasing her hands. She wrapped her arms around his neck as his found her waist. The song kept them dancing, eyes closed, lips moving as they also participated in another waltz. Their mouths were parted in a gentle passion against each other's.

The Caribbean sky spread out around the couple, the color of blush as the sun set beautifully. They were absorbed in one another, however, as lips sought to express the rose that was blooming in the cooling night. They pulled away for a moment, breath heavy when the song was no longer playing. Both smiled, not caring for the other melody. Bruce wrapped an arm around her shoulders and held her close as his other hand cradled her jaw as eyes once again slipped closed for a deep, passionate kiss.

* * *

**_Prompt #77, Blush_**

**_The song is "You Are Loved" by Josh Groban. The chapter is named after this song. I thought it was the perfect for Bruce and Harley. You should look it up on youtube; it is amazing and beautiful. _**

**_I love this whole chapter. Sorry for all the fluff. ^^_**


	28. Flight of Fancy

**Chapter 28: Flight of Fancy**

"You're suppose be putting sunscreen on my back," Harley groaned in satisfaction, "not giving me a massage."

Bruce grinned as his hands slid over her bare back. "You're not sounding too complaining."

She craned her head to the side, "It feels too good." Bruce chuckled and continued. When he was done both rubbing her back and applying the lotion, he kissed one of her exposed shoulders and stood up. She laughed.

"What was Alfred thinking when he bought you this swimsuit?" Bruce stated appraising the dark material; it tied both around her neck and back as well as at the sides of her hips. Harley lied back on her back. "That you'd enjoy it?" She reclined on the dandelion beach towel she had situated on the upper deck.

It certainly revealed Harley's toned body, curved perfectly, enticingly. "A little too much." He admitted, eyes sweeping back to hers which he could barely see behind her dark sunglasses. He saw the smirk on her lips; he wasn't making her uncomfortable, which relieved him. "Well, you're not the only one enjoying the view." She brought down her glasses and gave him a very approving glance as he stood above her in a pair of blue swimming trunks with white stripes. She was enjoying getting to see him without a shirt; getting to gander at the physique his training gave him.

"Hey, do you have on sunscreen?" Her eyebrows furrowed.

"Actually, I don't."

Harley clucked her tongue and sat back up, "Get down here, then. You're gonna get burned or get skin cancer." She held out the bottle of sunscreen and gestured to the area in front of her. "I'll get your back first. You're Batman; you're suppose to think of this stuff."

"I was distracted," he said, before sighing in mock-exasperation, which Harley just merely rolled her eyes at, and sitting down. He felt the shock first of the cool lotion, but relaxed as her hands began to spread the solution on his back, giving him a massage much like he had for her. When she was done she handed him the lotion to finish the rest of him and stood up.

He watched her walk over to the railing and stare out into the ocean. Something was bothering her, but she gave him a sunny smile once she saw he was observing her. She returned to his side after he had finished. He lied his head in her lap and for a while they said nothing, just listened to the ship around them.

"You're going to tell me what's on your mind." He said when he could not stay quiet any longer. She nodded, "At dinner tonight. So don't worry about it."

"I don't like it when you're troubled," he sat up and his mouth sought hers. "I'm here to listen." She smiled and kissed his cheek, "Thank you, but I'll tell you, you're more than just a set of ears to me. I will tell you, just not now. I want to enjoy the last day before we turn back."

* * *

**_Prompt #25, Dandelion._**

**_Only one more chapter of Bruce/Harley fluff...and then the next obstacle shall present itself. Sorry for the delay again. College sprang itself on me like a mouse trap...and I was enjoying that cheese too! :(_**


	29. The Last Reverie

**Chapter 29: The Last Reverie**

Harley stared out into the sky, a dusty violet in the light before returning her eyes to the table before her. She wrung her hands, and glanced across the light table cloth. She blushed lightly when she met the stare across the table.

"This wasn't necessary, Bruce," she said demurely.

Bruce smiled softly, "It was no trouble, besides I wanted to do something special."

He had had the crew place a table on the lower deck, along with hanging low lights. A whole menu for dinner had even been created. Her fingers caressed a glass of white wine as she stared into the plate, which still had some food. "Are you doing this-"

"Because you deserve it," Bruce reached across the table and touched her hand on the glass. "I'm doing because I want to, not because I pity you. I really just want you to feel special." Harley smiled, "How come no other woman sees this side of you?"

"Not many can accept that I'm not just Bruce Wayne. I've only revealed that secret to one person before you." Harley's eyes fell, "I know...and she...I'm sorry."

His fingers intertwined with hers, reassuring her. She gazed back up. He pulled on her hand, "Come over here, I have something for you." Harley tilted her head, but nodded and stood up. She wore a mauve sun-dress which caught lightly in the wind as she moved to Bruce's side. He had reached into his own khaki shorts and pulled out a small velvet box. The orchid material massaged Harley's hand when she took it slowly from him.

"Go on," Bruce smiled and watched as she opened the small box. "An onyx necklace," she whispered. "I thought silver and black would be beautiful on you." He explained, grinning, obviously pleased she liked it. "You've spoiled me too much already, Bruce." Tears gathered in her eyes. Bruce shook his head, "No, I'm treating you the way should have been from the start. You ask me, Harley, how come no other woman has caught me yet. I ask you the same about a man, at least one who will treat you right."

Harley shook her head, "I don't know." Bruce grabbed her hands and took the box. He sat it on the table. "Then let me remedy that." Harley's heart stopped. "Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?" Bruce nodded, "Why not?" She smiled sadly, "I would like that, but I don't want you getting any looks when it's found that you're dating Harley Quinn."

"I don't care," he whispered pulling her closer. Harley laughed softly, "But I do. Bruce, when we get back to Gotham I'm turning myself into the GCP." She felt his hands stiffen on hers. She stared into his eyes, "I have a plan, though. I won't be sent to Arkham and once I'm out, maybe a kind-hearted Bruce Wayne, wanting to give back to society would offer to house a recovering criminal like me. I heard he has a large, giving heart. I want to do this right, Bruce. I want to try and fix all the wrong I've done."

Bruce pulled her into his lap, grinning at her gasp. "A large heart, huh?" He held her gently. "I believe Bruce Wayne would be happy to do that." Harley smiled and leaned down, her lips ghosting over his, "I would be honored to be your girlfriend." And she kissed him. They were found minutes later by the chef, who appeared rather awkward while asking if they were ready for dessert.

* * *

_**Prompt #63, Orchid**_

_**Like I said, the last nice chapter before the next drama begins. So Harley's going to turn herself in? Who thinks that's a good idea?**_

I've decided to attempt to complete up to Chapter 50 of this story before I upload any more chapters. Keep the reviews coming! I love every single one, you guys are great!


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